Tag: happy

Carrie – On the advice of my friends Pam and Sam, I’ve started to watch Jane the Virgin. 15 episodes in one day later (I’ve had a very relaxing holiday season, okay?), young Jane asks her mom “what does love feel like?”

Jane’s question inspired me to try to encapsulate my answers in a blog post. So also on strongly-worded suggestions from Pam and Sam, I’ve decided to finally write this blog that I’ve been putting off: the “I’m finally in a relationship again and I’m not sure if I’m in love” post.

There are definitely benefits to being in a serious relationship again and more importantly, committing to someone you really care about. I’ve got a cute, beardy, genuinely nice guy from small-town Manitoba (SO not 6ix) who not only texts me back but calls me first; someone who has got his shit together; moreso than me, with a job, car, and no insane amounts of debt (thanks #lawschool). Bonus: he’s got two eyebrows! (see Mr. Unibrow). He is quick-witted; he remembers minute details like when I randomly told him I hated the taste of Dasani water and weeks later, he grabbed me an Aquafina bottle at the gas station; and my brain’s dopamine levels probably go off the charts when I see him calling my phone. It’s for sure the most mature relationship I’ve been in, with someone who is willing to talk about our issues, own up, and apologize (cause he’s the one who’s always wrong).

But sometimes I have nagging single-girl tendencies that come creeping up from the depths of my subconscious.

For example, gone are the days of the stints of dry spells; I have a consistent sex-source. (But also my only sex source.)

No longer do I have to worry about finding someone who’s down to Netflix with me on a Friday night in the -30 weather when I don’t feel like going out, I’ve got a go-to cuddle buddy. (But sometimes I miss regaling my girlfriends with stories of the latest fuckbois over brunch.)

I’m not sure what I was waiting for. I mean that in two ways. Firstly, I don’t know why I made such a big deal of holding out for my tenth kill. In fact, it was putting myself out there back on the Tinder grind full-throttle led me to Mr. LY/LYN. And now, with the thought of being tied down again, I wonder if I did myself a disservice to not have “lived” a little more while I’m still in my prime (I am convinced I peaked in fourth year).

But secondly, and maybe more curiously, I mean holding off this blog post. Is it my need to have the holistic picture after the end of relationships to be able to write about it? Is it my fear of publicizing my rejection online if/when things inevitably come to an end? Is it my perpetual mode to be cynical?

So here is my attempt to Be Brave and write about the thing that scares me the most: have I fallen in love again?

“What does love feel like? How do you know for sure you’re in love?”

While Jane’s mother responds, “it sort of feels like your heart is glowing,” I find this very unhelpful in terms of practical assessment. If I were writing on the show, I would say there should be:

Samantha – Just this past week a new year has sprung, and as such I’m thinking of the men who have hung
Around for the past 300-odd days, there are some to forget and some worthy of praise.
So to keep this “year-end-review” both creative and fun, I’m attempting to rhyme about the conquests I’ve won.
This poem may seem lame and a little bit crass, but it’s just a joke so don’t take it that seriously you ass!
Ok, enough of this intro, let’s get to the deets. Recounting my love life in rhyme is truly a feat.

The year started out with a dry spell in fact, I’d insulted Boston Babe and he wasn’t coming back.
As well I was caught up in dramatic affairs, my best friend confessed he loved me but I couldn’t have cared.
That’s not true, I’ll admit, I cared a whole lot, but not in the way that he wanted I’m afraid not.
So he “dumped me” for a while as a friend and anything more, I was hurt, I was sad and a little unsure
How I could’ve been dumped from something I wasn’t in, a trend I now recognize with a little chagrin…

At the Superbowl I left during the halftime show, for a one night stand that cemented my spot as a ho
In the hookup hall of fame as I returned to my friend after finishing my tryst to watch the game’s end.
My next interaction came as quite a shock, I met a girl that I vibed with and our hookup? It was hot.
She wanted to see me again to my surprise but I had to cut that off because I really just like guys.

Fast forward a few months to my trip to San Fran, I left for the weekend with a friend and a plan
To have new experiences both wild and fun, little did I know that I’d be the wildest one.
UK Bae had a hold over me that I can’t quite describe, I swear when he looked at me I felt my insides
Flip over like gymnasts who would certainly win gold, with a hookup to match I was basically sold.
This guy was amazing! I thought with glee, but that wasn’t entirely the full story you see,
Fore he had a girlfriend who wouldn’t be impressed, with my lust for her boyfriend, not my best move I will stress.
But I couldn’t ignore our connection which felt so strong, and we kept talking for months, both knowing it was wrong.
A couple months later our affair came to an end, the sexting was LIT but we didn’t see each other again.

Lucky for me I had many distractions, the night after UK Bae, Senor San Fran sprung into action.
Also a hookup that was top notch, this Mexican hottie lit a fire in my…..heart 😉
We also kept talking, even skyped once or twice, I was attracted to him and he was very nice,
But I didn’t want to keep up our constant communication and stopped answering his messages, except on occasion.
Oddly this sweet guy never did quit, and at the end of this month he’s coming to visit.

In August I went with Pam to Bolivia and Peru, we met 4 cute Irish boys, quite more than a few.
As usual, romance abroad is rather fortuitous, and I met a cute Brit who came over to dance with us.
We had a little fun in my hostel bed, then I left at 6 am not catching feelings, but a flight instead.
I’ll note a couple of others who had little effect, who came in and out of my life as you’d expect:
One man from the bar who was on too much blow, another whose moves were just quite so-so.
A friend on Halloween became a little more, oh shit this poem is making me sound like a whore.

For those of you who are paying attention, at the beginning of this poem I happened to mention
That I’d break up with guys who I hadn’t been dating, a recurring issue equally as odd as it is grating.
One time in particular I went with a friend to watch a rugby game but then at the end
He referred to me as “his girl” not once and not twice, but often to strangers which I didn’t think was nice.
The next time we met for bacon and eggs, I broke up with him before our coffees reached the dregs.
He was totally aghast, shocked and offended, handed back my waterbottle and said “Our relationship has ended”.
I tried to keep a straight face and act all serious, but couldn’t believe he’d been so delirious.
He’s got a girlfriend now so maybe I’m Good Luck Chuck, But that doesn’t seem possible because we didn’t even fuuuuuuuu…

Through all of these stories, the good and the bad, I’m glad to report none have made me upset or mad,
Except for one dude who I didn’t even bang! Who is he? Yup, you guessed it, it’s Mr. Man.
Long story short the flirtation has lasted far beyond being fun and I wish I was past it!
Every time I feel over him he crops up once again, keeping me on the hook but insisting we’re friends
You’d think a man of his age would be fully grown, but 6 months later and I feel totally thrown
So I’m starting 2018 fresh and anew, with a resolution to stop wasting time where it’s undue.

And thus we end off the story of my year, I think that at this point it’s pretty clear
that I wasn’t on the lookout for one true love, but kept my mind open, indicative of
a year that turned out nothing short of amazing, no heartbreak, disrespect or men needing tazing.
While my flings came and went, as they so often do, I still think that I learned a grand thing or two:
Follow your heart but think with your head, and always feel empowered to kick that fuckboi out of bed.
I cannot wait to see what 2018 will bring, as long as it’s not Mr. Man drama, well then that’s a good thing!

Oh hey there people of the interwebs. Miss me much? I think according to my last blog post “6ixin like a Vixen” it’s been just over a year since we’ve last spoken.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s not like my life hasn’t been eventful or lacking of stories to share, in fact it’s been quite the opposite, I’ve just been lazy AF to write them down. In fact, Sam constantly berates me on getting my shit together but meh, I’ve just been doing my thing.

So, instead of going over every individual encounter I’ve had with a man in the last year, I’ll do a broader overview with some key highlights and explain to you how I went from a 1 to a 9 in record time.

Now now, I’m not saying I’m a hideous person that’s somehow blossomed into a beautiful, exotic flower. Even though I’d like to think I age like fine wine. This is not the kind of number I’m talking about here. These numbers represent the amount of men I’ve slept with. I know, sounds a bit ridiculous right? Why the sudden surge? What changed in me that triggered this intense frequency of sexual encounters?

Before I continue, let me back track a little to give you some context. This might be a little TMI but hey, that’s what this blog’s for isn’t it? Before this year, I had only had sex with one partner – and that was over 3 fucking years ago. I know, just imagine at this point my vagina is full of cobwebs and skeletons of non-existent partners past. It was with my first (and only) boyfriend and it was painful AF. He was patient and slow with me but the pain would not cease even after multiple sessions. Unfortunately (as is everything in my life), shortly after we got together I left for an international exchange, therefore halting any possibility of regular sex and practice. Ever since, I have not dated anyone long enough to feel comfortable trying the whole sex thing over again. The fear of the potential pain has stopped me from casual hook ups as well because I fully knew it would not end well for either of us. I wanted to meet someone that I trusted and would be patient for me, and that never happened.

So, for my 2017 New Year’s Resolutions, I wanted to take matter into my own hands. I vowed to myself that sometime this year, I would put myself out there to try having sex once again. I did not want to play victim to the pain as I felt it was limiting me from potential encounters and opportunities. I’m not saying this is the best of right way to go about it for anyone who has had my issue, but it was my own personal mission.

Fast forward to February this year, I go on a date with a guy from OkCupid – hot but not much more than that. However, I was attracted to him and he was quick to make a move for a first kiss in the middle of our date. Our second date quickly escalated to me going back to his place. This wasn’t the guy I was planning to break my born-again virginity with, as my plan was to only do max 3rd base type activities, but one thing led to another and I found myself having sex for the first time in years. It was painful but manageable compared to how I last remembered. In fact, we engaged in a second round and I actually started to find myself enjoying it. I left with a smile on my face. I was so proud that I could check it off my resolution list – and so early in February no less! It wasn’t how I planned on it going down but it worked for me.

Without going into much more detail, let me provide a high-level description of guys number 2-9 (I keep a laundry list of them because my memory is terrible, also note this list does not include other types of hookups):

Mr. Hockey. Hot white guy – typical small town hockey buff, quick to enter my life and quick to leave it. Forever grateful to him for re-initiating me into the “penis in vagina” world.

Mr. Nigerian Cunnilingus. Torontonion working in Nigeria visiting the 6ix for vacation. It was a two week fling with the pretense of a faux-lationship (read: fake relationship). But man he loved going down and damn was he good at it – I rarely even saw him come up for air. When he left for Nigeria, I did not feel the need to continue talking to him. Random update: saw him a few days ago in my neighbourhood with a new chick on his arm. My social media stalking abilities determine he has quit his job and moved back to Toronto with her. Which is fine by me, just stay out of my hood please.

Mr. Superman. Impromptu night out with my best friend after a failed Tinder date earlier that day turned into meeting a cute guy with a Superman ringlet curl. Shameless dancing and obnoxious making out turned into exchanging numbers. Drinks later that week followed by a few renditions of rough sex. What I learned from that: hair pulling? Yes. Choking? No thanks.

Mr. Slide into his DMs. Tried messaging the guy on OkCupid but his inbox was full (too popular I guess) so I did the creepy thing and found his Instagram and DM’d him there. Started up a conversation and we met up. 2nd date we hooked up after a drunken night out but my cooch was dried out and it was a bit sandpaper-y. Learnings: girls can also get whiskey dick.

Mr. Vegan-not-so-vegan. First of two Costa Rican hookups on my first solo adventure (another resolution of mine for this year that I checked off). Cue me: girl standing outside of the bar by herself at 3am gorging fried chicken as if my life depended on it. Cue him: Venezuelan dude with a scooter who convinces me to hop on it where he takes me to his vegan restaurant and feeds me a peanut butter cookie and kombucha before plowing me roughly in his random bedroom apartment upstairs. Also found out he wasn’t vegan but opened it solely for the business opportunity. 10/10 would eat the cookie again. 0/10 would hookup with him again.

Mr. Sex-ish On the Beach. Costa Rican hookup number two. Matched on Tinder and after meeting a guy just before (who I was not down for), I quickly arranged to meet this other one at the bar. We quickly found ourselves both very attracted to each other (alcohol and other substances may have been a factor) and left the bar together shortly after. However, this was not before stopping at my hostel and dropping off my stuff where I then made out and was fingered by a hot Australian in the hostel bed next to mine, while the other guy was waiting for me patiently in the lobby unknowingly. Then we went to the beach to have failed sex (I’m 5’3 and he’s 6’3 so it did not work) before he took me back to his Airbnb and we had a great night (and morning) of steamy shindigs.

Mr. Gaydar. Received a random message from a guy that was my roommate’s then boyfriend (they are no longer together) while I was on my international exchange. He was visiting the 6ix and wanted to catchup 3 years later and have me show him around. There was no interest or chemistry when I first met him so I thought it would just be a random fun thing to do. What surprised me was how much more attractive he’s become, especially with his charming British accent. We did a gym session together where my gay friend hit on him thinking he was gay. Took him out with some friends who then all abandoned us by the time we reached the bar. At this point the only left for us to do was makeup and for me to take him back home. Fun fact: later found out he didn’t make a move on me earlier because he thought previous gay friend was hitting on me. Oh, if only he knew it was the other way around.

Mr. Arborist – After a 4 month dry spell from Mr. Gaydar, finally got my feet (read: nether region) wet with this guy I met from Tinder. He is also my current thing and biggest torture/stress of life and reminds me why I decided to stay single for a few months after Costa Rica. He’s different from anyone that I’ve ever met before in terms of looks and demeanor, but I’m finding myself very attracted to him. And he climbs trees for a living, so I guess that’s cool too.

As you can see, I’ve had a variety of encounters with guys over the last 8 months. While not all of them were positive experiences, I’ve learned a lot about myself and my sexuality. However, none of these were relationship-driven encounters so I’m still looking to really understand my body with a more consistent partner. But I think in terms of accomplishing my resolutions, I did that, and then some.

And that brings us back to where we are today…just fresh into the dating scene and about to subject myself to a whole other round of blog-worthy stories. Hopefully you’ll hear from me soon, but I wouldn’t count on it.

Carrie – When my friend offered me her place to stay in Seoul and my credit card supplied me with free flights, I impulsively booked my four Asian-metropolis trip for May: Tokyo, Shanghai, Busan and Seoul.

We met interesting people along the way, that’s for sure. One night in Tokyo, we ended up at as the only two girls at this karaoke bar, where I proceeded to get serenaded and dipped by the big, burly bartender to Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero” (song is forever ruined).

Cue to my last weekend Seoul, where I develop what I will term “Seoul Goggles” which is essentially a “do it for the blog” mentality.

Let me start off by saying that this wasn’t always the case. In fact, flashback to a year ago and this was basically polar opposite to how I was feeling. I broke up with my first real boyfriend, Mr. High School Crush, just a month before Valentines Day. My heartbreak was coinciding with (what felt like) the whole world beginning to be covered in hearts and declaration of love – basically everything that I was trying to hide from. As a recently single lady, I felt an urge to knock down all of the red and pink displays, rip down decorations that I saw and felt overwhelmingly compelled to either push or yell at couples, especially those showing PDA. Though in reality I did none of these things (except some eye-rolling and disgusted sounds at several couples) I felt like a monster who just hated anything that had to do with love and especially Valentines Day.

I guess I felt worried to be spending the holiday alone, because the memories that I had made over the 3 years prior were engrained in my mind as what Valentines Day should be. A holiday full of romantic dinners and getaways, overly expensive roses and red lingerie. How the hell was I going to celebrate make it through that Valentines Day with these preconceived ideas in my head. There was no other way to say it except that Valentine’s Day made me sick.

Lucky for me, last year I not only learned how to celebrate Valentine’s Day, but I had the best Valentine’s by a long shot and the best part of all was that (no Mr. High School Crush and I did not get back together), I didn’t even have a boyfriend to celebrate with. With no boyfriend or just one assumed Valentine, my friends and family boosted my heartbreak by offering to be my Valentine. With multiple Valentine’s in my circle, though they pitied me for being single, there was a perk that I ended up with more chocolate than I could have imagined (definitely more chocolate than I ever got from a boyfriend) – it was already looking up. On the actual day, I had no more worry that I would be spending it alone because I got to celebrate my first “Galentine’s Day” which surpassed any Valentine’s date I’ve ever had. What could be better than a group of single girlfriends, LOTS of food, dessert and most importantly wine?! Thanks to my own friends and family I was able to not only make it through the most dreaded holiday of a single girl, but I actually and genuinely really enjoyed it.

Now I’m here. A year later. Still single, and I am excited for Valentine’s Day. Maybe it was last years festivities, or my year to reflect and think and be happy with my #singlestatus, but this year I am embracing the holiday in the most Hallmark love filled way you can imagine. Because that’s exactly what I am celebrating: LOVE. My life, as I’ve learned, is more full of love than it ever has been. I know that it’s cheesy, but as February rolled around I felt an urge to feel more loving to my friends and family, to myself and to my life. With hearts basically everywhere that you turn, it’s hard not to think about love, whether it’s romantic or not and to feel that uplifting loving vibe. To me, Valentine’s serves as a reminder to show the special people in your life that you love them. To indulge in sweets, make cards and show the people that you care about them how much you really do. I am excited for my second annual Galentines day and am secretly hoping that my friends and I stay single for a while so this tradition can continue (just kidding…sorry ladies). Maybe the girls in Sex and the City were right, and that our girlfriends really are our soulmates, and if so that is what we should be celebrating when it comes to celebrating love! I am excited that I have SO many people to celebrate and am thankful that there’s a holiday to remind me to show how much I love and care about the people in my life. (Not to mention, the holiday continues to February 15 where all of the chocolate is discounted 😉 )

I can now look at couples and instead of wanting to pull them apart or flip their table at a restaurant, I can be happy for people who are happy to be in love. Maybe because it makes me hopeful that my love is out there somewhere too, or that it shows me how beautiful and fun love can be! I am no longer a cynical love hating monster, but now I can actually listen to, and help, my friends think of the cutest most romantic Valentine’s gestures for their significant others without feeling queasy while we talk about it.

Love is everywhere this month whether we want to it to or not. And even if we don’t have that special someone to share the day with, we should be looking for all those special people that surround us with love on February 14th and the other 364 days of the year.

P.s. let me know how you’re celebrating this year I’m a sucker for a good Valentine’s story 😉

Carrie – Move over Bachelor in Paradise, there’s a new show called Bachelorette in Hell and it is my love life. (That was cheesy, I apologize.)

Throughout the first few weeks of January, in order to get over my obsession with Mr. Heart Emoji, I distract myself with an app called Bumble where the girl has to talk to the guy first. Now, I’m pretty good with alluring men with one liners. In fact, I arrange three dates in one weekend.

It was just another day as I stood in front of my pre-kindergarten class going through our morning routine: attendance, weather, counting, calendar. Nothing out of the ordinary, but today’s date made me stop a little dead in my tracks. I had forgotten about it, and especially about Mr.. High School Crush, but today it all came back in my mind because it would have been our three-year anniversary. Hold up. I can safely say that I haven’t thought about this guy in a long time and suddenly one date with a pretty big memory came and knocked me down like a sack of potatoes.

Obviously I made it through the day without giving it another real thought, but the car ride home from school and the rest of the night was a different story where my mind began obsessing over Mr. High School Crush: did he ever think about me? Does he remember that it is our anniversary? Has he moved on? Should I message him? Needless to say the questions and wonders were plentiful, and they led me to a thorough Facebook stalking (guilty) and a re-read of all of his past cards and letters that I thought were safely stowed away in the very back of my closet.

It was one of those nights that could have been well paired with a tub of ice-cream and some chick flicks, but I knew I was way over that and opted for a blog post and some girl-chat instead to come up with a few of my own “hard but important” truths following a break up:

Your ex is going to get over you whether you like it or not

I didn’t like this one at all. One of the comforts of my break-up was that I had the upper hand. It was on my terms, when I was ready and even though he hadn’t tried to talk me out of the break up, I knew that he still wanted to date me, even leaving me with the “one day I hope to end up with you”. Following the break up, he was quick to answer my texts, liked my instas, even left me a going away present and super cute card, and kept up with my life. It was comforting, and as betchy as it sounds, I liked the fact that I still had him wrapped around my finger. However, eventually, the communication stopped to the point where he would take weeks to answer me until our conversations have fizzled out to the point of non-existence. It hit me hard, but Mr. High School Crush did – what I thought – was impossible and he went on his life without me, and let me go on my life without him.

It’s okay to remember what it was like to be in love

One of my most guilty moments on “our” three year anniversary was the fact that I re-read all of those cards and notes from Mr. High School Crush, and even more guilty was how happy it all made me. At first I thought it was pathetic, and after some pep talking from the other DTT6 blogger Carrie, I felt a lot better about it. When I re-read those cards I couldn’t help but smile and felt the need to want to bury the hatchet and forget about all the fighting and crying there was at the end of the relationship. I know that I can look back on those 2.5 years and confidently say that the majority of it was happy and loving – making me feel a lot better and less concerned that I “wasted my time”. Reading those cards weirdly made me feel confident too: it was exciting to know and remember that someone can love you so much and think so highly of you (and was a great feeling to read it over and over, card after card). It was a sort of bitter sweet moment but was definitely an important step to not just getting over things, but getting over things in a positive and happy way!

Keep your friends close

Becoming the girl that I never wanted to become, when I was in a relationship I was the girl that was obsessed with her boyfriend which unfortunately was at the expense of my friends. Towards the end of my relationship I realized how much neglecting I had done, and also how closed off I was to reconnecting with old friends and making new friends. Luckily for me, I realized how important friendships were when I was still in a relationship and I made an effort and continued to make an effort when I was single. I can safely say that my friends were the reason that I was super happy being single – from Galentines day to Disney World, my last 8 months of amazing experiences can all be attributed to some great friends.

“I had to let go of us to show myself what I could do”

Like every basic betch in the 6, once Views came out – I had it on repeat and this lyric really stuck with me. Being in a relationship made me feel trapped in a way, and the fact that it was so easy made me feel okay with complacency, and let me tell you I’ve never been okay with complacency. One of the reasons I waited to break up with Mr. High School Crush was because I was scared of what life would be like without, and I craved the comfort and security that came along with the relationship. The analogy that I used to describe the “fine” that was our relationship was like a boat: it wasn’t moving, but it wasn’t sinking and it was just stand still. Well let me tell you that stand still gets boring, and challenge and excitement is way more fulfilling. Once I mustered up all of my courage and broke up with him, my life became way more fun and exciting. I worked at the most magical place on earth (travelling around a lot too), scored a great job when I got home and balanced school. Now I’m planning more trips (with some of the other bloggers), have so much time for friends and adventure, and am even training to run a 5k! None of this would have even crossed my mind had I stayed in the relationship, and my “me” time has been put to good use!

Though it sucked remembering and thinking about how we would have celebrated our three year anniversary, I am happy that I had the day to think and reflect and celebrate for myself by myself. I have definitely seen the value of being a single pringle and have had some of the best and most fun experiences riding solo.

I wish all the best to Mr. High School Crush, as we should do to our exes (unless they’re actually evil, then no doubt we do not wish them the best), and I hope he lives happily ever after, as far away from me as possible.

Lately I have struggling with what to write about….like reaaaallly struggling. So much so that some of my friends have given me random topics to comment on in an attempt to get me motivated. Well, fear not friend-os, my single ladies survival guide to Valentine’s Day is on its way. It’s just that I’ve been feeling so lethargic and uninspired lately that my creative juices are basically at a standstill. And it’s not even like I haven’t had any hookups to talk about. On the contrary, I saw Mr. Views of the 6ix last weekend and let me tell you his apartment was as glorious as ever. I honestly tried to take a pic of it on my way out the following morning but bailed when I heard him coming out his room.

The fact remains that besides for my disturbing apartment fetish, I couldn’t think of anything to write about. What the heck was causing my writers block? Don’t forget, I’m the girl who wrote about shaving her legs so clearly it doesn’t take a lot to get a post out of me. Well, while lying in bed staring crankily at the ceiling last night I suddenly realized the issue.

I am in a F*ck Funk.

F*ck Funk /fuk/fəNGk/

Noun: A dater’s version of the winter blues. Characterized by waning energy, lackluster affect and ambivalence toward both dating and men.

The F*ck Funk is an annual occurrence result from a failed cuffing season. When summer flings are no more than a distant memory, the days are short but feel so very long, and everyone is coupled up or too lazy to care, yup. You’ve got the makings of the F*ck Funky time of year. Now, I may not be a scientist. I can’t prove that this is a real thing or that my foul mood is correlated with a serotonin or dopamine deficiency. But hell, this is my blog, and as such I own the right to make shit up as I go. So in continuing to abuse that right, I, Dr. Samantha Jones, will suggest that based on personal experience alone, this funk is a totally legitimate thing that I can both diagnose and help treat. I know, I really am amazing.

Doctorate credentials aside, let me explain how a F*ck Funk manifests through my most recent meetup with Mr. Views. It was Friday night and I was ready to paaaarttttaaaayyyyy! Alongside some of my best friends I headed to Motionball charity gala with one goal in mind: I was gunna find me a man. Lately I have been so apathetic toward J-swipe, tinder, and hookups in general because yes, ladies and gentlemen, Samantha Jones wants a little something more. Despite all this, I was totally not “feelin it” from the moment we arrived at the gala. I felt ugly, lacked confidence and definitely didn’t want to put myself out there in front of the overwhelming number of hotties around me. I even wing-womaned for my friend so she could meet her “dream bae” but barely made an effort with his friends standing nearby. I wanted someone without trying which is how I ended up at Mr. Views.

Now we can all see where this is going and loneliness is never a good reason to hook up with someone, but against better judgment I still hit him up on my cab ride home. We actually had a great time, I’ve alluded to our great sexual chemistry, but I was really put off by our lame attempt at small talk during a post-coital cuddle sesh. We have nothing in common and it was painfully obvious to us both.

A F*ck Funk appears when “just doing me” loses it sheen and becomes stale. I was bored of the meaningless hook ups and missing the intimacy that just doesn’t come from a 2 am booty call (shocking…). As I stared at his ceiling while his neighbors blared Sia at 8 in the FREAKING MORNING, I found myself thinking, “How did I end up here? Has my self-esteem really fallen so far that I’ll bang anyone just to feel some closeness? AM I REALLY THAT MUCH OF A CLICHÉ?”

Armed with the fear of my own banality and realization that I was on the edge of a self-esteem breakdown, I slipped back into my gala dress and said “see you later”, knowing very well he’d probably never see me again. I was in a F*ck Funk and I needed to figure out how to get my mojo back.

How to get your mojo back by Dr. S. Jones

The following is my how-to guide for beating da funk and RSVPing “No” to the pity party that has recently characterized my love life.

Le Gym

The oldest adage in the book and for good reason. I am not by any means suggesting you need to look a certain way to be happy. I’m definitely not the skinniest person in the world but can honestly say I love myself as I am (90% of the time). HOWEVER, whether you are a size 10 or a size 2, going to the gym releases endorphins and endorphins make you happy. So get yo ass to dat spin class, simple as that.

Show Gratitude

This is the easiest fix ever. A couple years ago Harvard published a paper proving that the best way to feel happiness is by telling someone you love how important they are to you. It’s a pretty dense read so if you don’t feel like investing the hours that I was forced to during my undergrad, you can just watch this video from Soul Pancake that highlights the awesome power gratitude really has.

PUT DOWN THE NETFLIX

I know, Netflix is bae and we all love a Sunday afternoon binge-watching The Good Wife. But if you’re in a funk – Fk related or not – it’s important to put down the laptop and find something intrinsically motivating to do instead. For those of you without a psych background, intrinsically motivated activities are the ones that we do not because we have to or because we get something for it, but because they just feel good to do. For me that’s crafting because let’s face it, I’m an overgrown 5 year old.

Grab a Kit Kat bar (and take a break)

Needing a break from dating is perfectly acceptable, but it does not mean you give up hope. If you need to take some time, detox and delete all your dating apps I support you entirely! Untethering your self-esteem from your phone is only a positive thing, but it should not be a permanent state. We are too damn young to give up on finding love, so if that’s what you want, then you’re probably going to have to go out there again and just try. Have some good dates, have many bad ones, have another Kit Kat! Once the burnout passes you’ll be ready to start all over once again.

Fake it till you make it

If all else fails, act like you’re killing it and soon enough you will be. Studies have shown that even if you’re feeling sad, physically smiling leads to improved mood despite your best efforts at misery. Resting bitch face is a meme folks, not a way of life.

There you have it, my take on the undiagnosed ailment of the season. I have not shared anything revolutionary in this post, in fact this is more so a message to myself to buck up and take my own advice. Nonetheless, I want to give a shout out to all my homies who feel alone as “the most romantic day of the year” fast approaches. If you want to captain the she-man, male haters club and take a shot at lesbianism, fine. Indulge in the doldrums, depression and double baked cookie dough ice cream for the day, but not for good. In the immortal words of T-Swizzle, shake it off…spring is closer than you think.

I go to meet him at the subway stop close to his place and all I’m thinking is please don’t let him be short. Pleasedon’t let him be short. Because if he’s short, I’m screwed. I can’t very well turn around and be like “Naw I’m good, ttyl”. Here I am, it’s Saturday night, 1:30 in the morning, and I’m waiting on a street corner for some guy from j-swipe. I know…how in the fuck am I actually here again.

Luckily, he wasn’t short. Not tall per say, but a good two inches more than me so I’ll count this one as a win. He also looked just like his online profile which was a refreshing change and I’m thinking “Great, all signs point to go so far”. So we go to his apartment and this place was GORGEOUS. Like, well-furnished, floor to ceiling windows and the most incredible view of the city I’ve ever seen. He lives in Yorkville, so you’ve got the CN tower to the left and uptown to the right. I couldn’t help but feel fancy af in a place like this, and as a young professional LIVING AT HOME, it was totally my fantasy apartment. Literally, this place was the “come-to-life” version of fantasy locations I’ve had in the past. Needless to say, the mood was set the moment I walked through the door.

We end the “apartment tour” in his bedroom where things heated up pretty quickly. While we didn’t have the most amazing conversational chemistry, our physical connection was undeniable. We had a fantastic time together and to put it plainly I’ll say I barely slept all night.

I could probably end the post here, but have decided to include some of racy details instead because (I think) they’re too hilarious not to share. However, this is definitely a little TMI for a public site, so if you’re not into that kind of thing I’d suggest skipping to the last paragraph now.

We get right to it and I quickly notice he has a full-length, mirrored closet right next to his bed. My first thought is “Omg you can see everything, this is my nightmare.” I mean, who wants to see what they look like bumping uglies? Clearly not Ross and Rachel in “The One with the Videotape”, when they realize how horrifyingly awkward sex can look. The quotes “Ew” and “Oh, that’s not pretty” are particularly memorable. Well, after a few minutes I realize “Omg you can see everything, but this is really hot!” Unlike the episode of Friends we were both really into seeing it all play out and I warmly welcomed the mirror as a prop in my love life.

The face you make when the sex looks awkward af

Anyway, end of round 1 I am on top (of the pyramid…hello*) and Mr. Views hoists me up to place me on the bed beside him. Unfortunately, he misjudges the edge of the mattress and much to my surprise, tosses me directly onto the floor. I was so thrown off (literally and figuratively) that I burst out laughing at the thought of what I looked like sprawled naked on his floor next to my new best friend, the mirror.

Alright, so I’m trying not to harp on the intimate details of my sex life because that has never really been what this blog is about. I do, however, want to take this opportunity to highlight the topic of butts.

I am a butt virgin. I have never ventured to the nether region and have no current interest in doing so. In fact, the whole idea freaks me out. Generally speaking, I am a sexually open person, I just have legit 0 interest in something being stuck in my butt when I’m not bored of having it stuck in my front just yet. Funnily enough, this is what led to LOL moment numero dos from my night with Mr. Views, self-proclaimed ‘butt guy’. About five minutes after the “tossed-off-the-bed” incident, we’re cuddling when out of nowhere he whispers: “Should I get the lube”.

…

Honestly, I had to do my very best not to burst out laughing (again!) because the comment was just so out of place and soooo unsexy in that moment. While I’m all for a slap or a little roughness, I was not interested in losing my be-hymen that night and politely declined his offer. I’m not forever opposed to the idea, but was not looking to make my first time with a hyper-active, butt-obsessed random, whose most redeeming quality was his taste in décor.

And finally, the piece de resistance, my crowning achievement and most Sex and the City-esque moment of all time. We’re hooking up for umpteenth that night and had decided to take our sexual relations into new territory: the kitchen.

Sidebar for Mr. Views’ roommate: I deeply apologize for defouling your oven, but it provided great leverage and I can safely say that the oven wasn’t the only thing cooking with gas that night, buh dum tsssss.

Bad jokes aside, my spot on the oven provided a perfect vantage point of that fan-fucking-tastic view of Toronto and I may have actually gotten turned on by how beautiful it was. I know this sounds pretty absurd but I was so into that apartment, the view, and this mental idea of having “made it” that I don’t even think Mr. Views had to have been there for me to be having a good time.

Yup, I’m a freak in all definitions of the word.

So props to you Mr. Views of the 6ix! Good sex is hard to have the first time around but we really figured it out. I doubt we’ll be more than fuck buddies but I can almost guarantee we’ll see each other again. It is a little weird acting this way when at the end of the day I know I want a relationship. I mean, the whole reason I have been using j-swipe exclusively is because I want to meet people I could actually end up with. But the fact remains that I will not be in love with every single guy – or likely any single guy – that I meet on these dating apps. So, if I happen to find a cute, nice guy, with an AMAZING apartment who satisfies some of my needs, would I be me if I said no?

*John Tucker Must Die reference. If you didn’t get it, then why are you even reading this blog?